Weeping Willow
by Twist130
Summary: A few oneshots of classic fairytales with quite a few twists. R&R please
1. Chapter 1

**Weeping Willow**

I had taken so many risks to come, to see him, but he wasn't here. Three nights. Three nights of risk, just to see him. Three nights, the possibility of being found out, of being whipped, of being turned out… and he hadn't turned up for one of them.

The first night, I had been more nervous then ever in my life. My step-sisters and step-mother had just left, leaving me to do as I would, as long as I didn't leave the house. Tough luck for them-I had other plans. _He_ was going to be there. He had arranged it all, so that I would come, he would meet me, and we could have some time together. Which we barely got anymore; he had stopped coming to our meeting place, except a few times for a little bit, only to tell me that he was as _busy as ever_, he couldn't come, but would I come to the ball?

Of course, I would meet him there. Though, then, I didn't know how hard it would be. Five minutes after they left, I slipped into my step-sister's room; the smaller one, who was more my size. I had just ran my hands though the beautiful fabrics when I heard a carriage pull up. _Oh, please, no_…my mind groaned. But, yes; there she was, pounding up the stairs, yelling that she wanted one little thing, and she would be back in one minute. I only had time to jump in the wardrobe. _Please!_ I prayed. Luck had been on my side. When I heard them go again, I hardly dared to go on with the plan. But I did. I had to. It was a chance to defy my step family. It was a chance to see _him_. I began to believe that I loved him…no, I knew I loved him.

And I was convinced he loved me too. Why else would he have walked me though the market all those time? Met with me in the forest?

But he missed the first ball. _He's sick_. I assured myself. H wouldn't blow me off…he asked me to come! _He's sick_. I left the ball at twelve, seeing no reason to stay if _he _wasn't there. Of course, he would come to the next one.

But he didn't. Instead, a handsome yet repulsive stranger asked me to dance numerous times, and each time he held me too close for comfort. Close enough even, to whisper in my ear that he was my prince. It was all I could do to tell him I was expected back by twelve, and leave his nauseating grip around my waist.

The third ball. He _had _to come to this one…he had to. I told myself that with such ferocity that I actually believed it, and banished the thought that had been creeping into my mind, that he wasn't coming, that he never was.

I was a fool. I should've stayed home. I should've, I should've. I should've done so many things. So many things other than what I did.

There he was, the handsome, repulsive stranger. On one knee. Holding my hand. I knew what was coming. He asked me to marry him. I was disgusted. 'No, no!' I begun to say. But the words never got out of my mouth because at that moment, I looked up.

And there _he_ was. Right there. Watching. _He_ did come! I began to think. But… no. Attached to his arm was a woman. A petite, beautiful, blonde woman. My eyes were drawn up the his. Was there any feeling there? Love? There had to be! He loved me! But… no. Only indifference met my searching gaze. My heart wrenched, was ripped in two, then tiny pieces. It was all a game. All the escorts though town, swimming in the spring, everything was fake, not real. And in the balls? He was avoiding me, maybe he even sent this repulsive man-the _prince_ on me. I had gone stiff, and then he…proposed. Finally, my throat unclogged, but nothing came out. The clock struck three, and boomed out three loud notes, ringing out my doom.

And the absence of no was taken as a yes. And, when you are engaged to the prince, you can't get out of it, however hard you try.

* * *

40 years after the ball

Another tear slips down out from underneath my defenses. I shouldn't be crying, I remind myself. He's the one who betrayed you. A traitor. But my treacherous feelings don't care, and another tear comes down. There was his-now old but still beautiful- wife. He was weeping. She loves him. As I had…as I still do. He died but two days ago. Today is the third… the third day of the third month. _Three certainly is my lucky number,_ I think wryly as another tear slips down. I look over my shoulder, and see the king… my husband (and I still shudder whenever people put us together) coming. To find me. I wipe a tear from my withered cheeks with a gnarled old hand, and hurry though a group of courtiers. Away from him.

Once gone from the bustle, I strike out for my tree. I the heart of the gardens, about fifteen minutes in, lay a weeping willow. I had discovered this tree many years before, hiding from the prince, back when we were still engaged.

Pushing aside draping leaves and branches, I slip inside. This is my sanctuary, my place of peace. Here I wish for what I once had. Here, I am free to hate my husband. Here, I am as close to free as I can be. I sit on the cushions that I left out when I first found this place, and changed every so often. The shelter I am in has a mottled green color from the sunlight filtering though the branches. It reminds me of my childhood, the good old days… yes, even under my step-family's rule. Then, at least, I could go where I would… but now, I am confined to the palace and grounds. I am in a prison. I lie back in the cushions, and remember running though the forests… carrying pots of water… swimming in the secluded pool, diving off rocks.

I wished for the servitude under my step-family, I wish for the days before that, when my father hadn't left me, when my life was not… this. I wish for freedom.

I close my eyes, and breathe my last breath. At last, I am free.


	2. Chapter 2

He had wanted me, I knew it. But then _she_ came. She came and ruined everything. A month ago, my hopes had been so high. A month ago, I had come into this world, sure that I could do the task assigned to me. So many things can change in a month. I had been so close. I wandered out of my cabin, onto the main deck of the boat. My feet made no sound as I glided over to the rail, didn't even leave the blood coated footprints as usual. I stared up at the inky black sky, the few stars twinkling and glowing like fireflies mocking me. I brought my gaze down to the sea. Waves lapped at the sides of the ship temptingly.

The sea whispered to me, its voice soft, husky, caressingly into my ear. _Come to us,_ It whispered, _come and join us. We love you. We can make you happy. Why stay when all your troubles can be gone…lost in our depths…? _It was horribly convincing…why stay here? He doesn't love me…nothing keeps me here…go…my troubles will be relieved…lost in the sea…I shook my head to clear it.

I glided over to the prince's cabin, much larger than mine, hung with silk…the door was shut tight, but I pushed it open noiselessly, and slipped towards the bed. I gazed down on them, happy and embracing, in their wedding night bed. A dagger appeared in my hand. It was a simple thing, adorned with a green wrapped hilt of some unknown substance, with some engravings in an unknown ancient mysterious language on the blade. The deal was clear: the man falls in love with me, I stay a human the rest of my life. I don't gain his affections; I turn back into a mermaid…either by killing him, or becoming her slave as so many before me have. To serve her was to become the most black being…the deeds she does is enough to make anyone hate themselves into oblivion… but so many had taken that path before me, so many had sacrificed their sanity, everything for the man they were after….

I had been so close, but then_ she _came…and ruined everything. I stared at the dagger. It would be so easy. Plunge it into his vulnerable chest before me, and I would be free. So easy…one simple movement…and the bride would wake, her golden head high and full of misery, her spattering of freckles standing out more then usual on her pale face. No one would suspect _me, _the mute beauty dark eyes full of real sorrow, long dark brown curls hanging around my face covering it. No one would suspect _me, _the prince's friend, who they found lying, shivering on the beach. Not even when I disappeared forever.

I held the knife, poised over him. I tried to make my hand go down in the swift movement that would his life…my arm refused to move, refused to obey…or maybe it was obeying in a different way…did I want to kill him? Do I really want to do this? I knew the answer, and withdrew my hand. If I could cry, I would burst into tears. If I hadn't given up my voice with my other life, I would cry out.

If I hadn't had to save him, none of this would have happened.

I slipped out of their room, and walked to the prow of the ship. The knife still in my hand…it glinted maliciously in the moonlight. At any moment, I could bring it towards myself…I could end this pain.

The sea whispered to me… _come to us, come to us…end this pain._

I smiled gently, softly…I will not be in servitude to that terrible woman… there was one option yet open to me, one option that no one has taken thus far. I toke a deep breath, savoring my last moments…and I opened myself, my heart, my soul to the sea.

Will I be remembered? Would he wake up one day and think…I wonder what happened to her, where she went…?

Dawn brakes, a man and his new wife walk out of their cabin and to the front of the ship. The woman holds onto her husband's arm and looks out onto the horizon, then down into the inviting sea. Foam laps the edges of the vessel, so calm, so lovely. She smiles down upon it, and looks up at her new husband. "The sea is so beautiful," she says softly, "the foam seems to be whispering…whispering a mournful song…"

He chucks her gently under her chin, smiling lovingly on her fair face. "Now you know that's nonsense, darling. The sea doesn't talk."

She leans closer to him. "I know," she says, so softly I can barely hear it. "I know…It was only a fancy…only a thought." They turn around and leave, back to the cabin, and I am taken away by the sea.

The other foam seems to whisper its acceptance towards me, loving words, accepting me into their world, as others never had. They sigh my name as one, the last time I will hear it.

My last thought breezes though my mind, almost in my last moments. _He never loved me. He never has, and he never will. His wife remembered, but not him. He doesn't remember me, he never will, he loves her…._

I understand this; I make it apart of me. My last thoughts are swept out of my mind, and I collapse into my brothers and sisters…and I forgot.


End file.
